Fire and Water
by fruitshop
Summary: Tom Riddle has almost always despised Grace Durand with every fibre of his being. But when he becomes obsessed with his wizarding heritage and the Dark Arts, she may be the only one who remains loyal until the end...Tom Riddle/OC.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: I only own my OCs. Any characters and places you _do_ recognise belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling.**

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><p>There was nothing Tom Riddle did not despise at Wool's Orphanage. He disliked the grey building right from its dingy and tiny rooms down to its cold and dull entrance hall. He couldn't stand the matron's, Mrs Cole, shrill voice and the constant smell of gin wafting out of her office. But what Tom Riddle hated most were the other children who lived in the orphanage, especially the ones who liked to make fun of him because he was <em>different<em>.

Yes, Tom was as different as one could be. While for the other children the term 'different' seemed to have a negative connotation, Tom took pride in this difference and already knew at an early age that he was special. He never really told anyone, of course. He had always been suspicious of Mrs Cole and the other children and it would not do well to confide in them. But when Billy Stubbs had hidden drawing pins in Tom's shoes and hours later had found his bed on fire, Tom knew that he from now on could put an end to being harassed.

There was only one child Tom didn't hate as much as the others. Well, he didn't particularly like her either, but she had never made fun of Tom when his blankets had gone missing again or when someone threw food at him during lunch time. And Tom would soon find out that Grace Parker was as _different_ as he was.

When Tom was only three years old, Grace was left on the front steps of Wool's Orphanage, clad in a thick woollen coat and a letter clutched in her tiny hands. Tom was one of the many children who had nosily been peeking down the stairs when a shocked Mrs Cole ushered the small girl inside and into her office. At first, Tom had just given an annoyed sigh and returned to his room, thinking that there now was another bothersome girl added to the group of orphans. He had only caught a glimpse of her porcelain skin and straight brown hair, but the rest of her didn't interest him anyway.

Tom and Grace's first encounter had happened only two days later during breakfast. Tom's day had already begun awfully when Mrs Cole checked on him to make sure he had dressed properly which, of course, he had. Annoyed, she had sent him down the stairs and had continued to help Billy tie his shoes. When Tom had taken his tray and sat down at one of the tables in the dining room, as far away from the other children as possible, a small voice had shaken him out of his stupor.

"Would you mind if I sit down here?" Grace Parker had asked, pointing at the place right next to Tom while clutching her tray. Of course, Tom had refused her request and she was left standing in the middle of the dining hall with her big, sad blue eyes.

But what had annoyed Tom the most back then was the fact that Grace had seemed to follow him around from then on. It wasn't obvious to the other orphans, but from the day Grace Parker had set foot in Wool's Orphanage she preferred to sit at his favourite table, took the same reading lessons he did and was always signing up for the same hour of outdoor time as Tom when they were older. It bothered Tom so much that he had not only slipped into Grace's room one time during supper and had caused all of her books and toys to vanish, but he had also let her soup explode when she had dared to let Dennis Bishop sit down next to her and Tom.

Nothing kept the tiny girl away from him, though. Grace wasn't as troublesome as some of the girls in her dorm, but Tom wanted to be left alone nevertheless. It did not really help that Grace seemed to make friends everywhere she walked even though she did not talk very much and preferred to just smile and nod, instead of engaging in detailed conversations. She also didn't shy away from Tom when Billy Stubbs told everyone that Tom had somehow hung his rabbit from the rafters. On the contrary, Grace seemed to be drawn to Tom even more.

On the day Tom turned seven, his opinion of her started to change and he began to realise that maybe Grace wasn't as despicable as everyone else. They had known each other for four years now, but had never engaged in a conversation that didn't end with Tom abruptly leaving the room or sneering at the girl and her apparent stupidity. It was already dark outside when there was a soft knock on Tom's door. He huffed, angry that someone dared to disturb him while he was reading, and wasn't at all surprised when Grace let herself in only moments later. She closed the door behind her and leaned her back against it, her big blue eyes studying Tom who wasn't looking up from his book.

"I brought you some cake," Grace said and held up a small plate with a tiny piece of cake on it. Tom still didn't raise his head but watched the girl's every move out of the corner of his eyes. "I thought you would like some since it's your birthday today."

Tom sighed and slammed the book shut. He knew Grace wouldn't leave his room until he had accepted that damned piece of cake.

"And where, do tell, did you get that cake?" Tom asked as he drew himself up. He was tall for his age and liked to tower over those he considered inferior to him. Grace Parker was no exception. "I know Mrs Cole did neither make it for my birthday nor because it is New Year's Eve."

"Oh!" Grace exclaimed and her pale cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. "I made it myself with the help of one of the older girls. You see, it is my birthday today as well."

Tom stiffened at the mention and stared at the girl, still not taking the plate from her. He had never known that he and that annoying Parker girl shared the same date of birth. Not that he really cared though, Tom thought with a sneer as he took the plate and placed it on his bedside table with no intention of eating it as soon as Grace would leave the room. "You can leave now," he commanded and turned away, not really caring that he would come across as rude and ungrateful. But Grace didn't move.

"There is something else I wanted to tell you," she whispered and stared at Tom's back through her long lashes. Tom was irritated, she could tell, but she pushed the fear back into the deepest part of her mind as she bravely stepped forward. "I am like you, Tom. I am different."

Tom whipped around, his dark eyes filled with rage. For one second, he felt like hitting Grace. How dare she didn't respect his privacy and then claim that she was in any way similar to him! He didn't raise his fist though, and tried to calm himself down. What good would it do to get into a fight with Grace? They were only seven and he was in no mood to get yelled at by Mrs Cole again.

"Different _how_?" Tom finally asked, not wanting to give anything away.

"I can show you," Grace said and when Tom turned around, her hand was already hovering over a candle sitting on Tom's desk, her face contorted in concentration. At first nothing happened, but after a short while the candle's wick lit up and a small flame tickled Grace's palm. She had ignited the candle.

"I can't quite control it yet," Grace told Tom as if nothing extraordinary had happened and turned her blue eyes on him. "But I know _you_ can. I saw you talking under your breath when my soup had exploded back in June. I _saw_ you control Billy's rabbit right before-". In one swift move, Tom had put his hand over her mouth and stared down at her with fury in his eyes.

"Never mention this to anyone," he hissed and let go of the brown-haired girl. "No one can ever know, do you understand? They won't understand; they will call us 'freaks' behind our backs. Do you want that?" He glared at Grace who was shaking her head. Tom could see that the excitement from before had vanished from her eyes and he was pleased to known that he had put a damper on Grace's mood.

"This must be our secret."

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><p>Grace was adopted by an elderly couple in July 1935. Tom wouldn't have minded years before, but since Grace did now share his secret, he wasn't as calm as he knew he should have been.<p>

Mr and Mrs Durand were in their late fifties and were coming straight at Tom and Grace who were sitting in the orphanage's garden, and they were led by an overly excited Mrs Cole.

"Maybe they have come to adopt Sarah," Grace mused and turned to look at a small blond girl who was sitting only a few metres away from them. She was already used to being ignored by the couples who had so far been to the orphanage as most of them preferred to adopt one of the much younger children. Grace told herself that she didn't really mind, though.

But Tom knew they hadn't come for Sarah. While he lowered the book he caught the couple smiling at Grace, and Mrs Cole was still chattering when they had finally reached the two children. Tom made a show of turning his attention to his book again but Grace was peering up at the three adults right in front of them.

"Grace," Mrs Cole began slowly, sparing Tom only a small frown. "This nice couple has come to adopt you."

Tom rolled his eyes at Mrs Cole for talking to Grace like she was still some five-year-old, yet he didn't say anything as he could hear said girl gasp beside him.

"Me?" Grace exclaimed, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. "But why?"

The couple laughed softly and the woman helped Grace stand up. They introduced themselves as Mr and Mrs Durand who were living in Glasgow and had gotten married thirty years ago. They had taken an interest in Grace after seeing her in the entrance hall an hour ago, and since she reminded Mrs Durand of her sister when she had been much younger, they had decided to ask her if she wanted to live with them.

Grace was, by now, openly excited and had already asked Mr Durand if she were allowed to keep a cat in her new home. Tom's ears only pricked up when he heard Grace ask: "Can Tom come, too?"

"I'm afraid he cannot, my dear," Mrs Durand answered softly, looking at Tom with pity in her eyes which made his blood boil. Minutes later, the Durands were led back inside by Mrs Cole to fill in the rest of Grace's papers. The latter had been instructed to pack her things as she and the Durands would be leaving in less than an hour.

"Isn't this wonderful?" Grace exclaimed as Tom followed her up the stairs and into her room. "I cannot believe they chose me! I had already lost hope I would every get out of this dingy orphanage. Isn't this great, Tom?"

But Tom was only staring at her with an indescribable look written on his face. He couldn't _believe_ Grace could be so delighted by being adopted by such plain people. What about the gift she had been given? Had she already forgotten about their little secret? Tom wouldn't call Grace his friend and he most definitely wouldn't miss her when she was finally gone, but it had been almost nice to have someone to talk to from time to time during the last two years. And now she was about to leave, leave _him_, just like that.

"I'm sure you can come and visit any time," Grace continued, already packing her things. She didn't have much, yet she didn't want to leave anything behind. But as she reached for her coat in the wardrobe, Tom's hand closed painfully around her wrist, and he yanked her around so that they were face to face.

"I don't want to ever see you again, liar," Tom spat and shoved Grace away from him. She tumbled and almost hit her head against the wardrobe.

"Tom, what-," Grace stuttered, though Tom had already left the room. She didn't see him when she made her way downstairs and she still didn't see him when she was saying her goodbyes to Mrs Cole and the other orphans. Some of the younger children were crying when they saw Grace leave, already missing the young girl and her warm smile. Grace couldn't believe that Tom wouldn't even say his last goodbye and felt anger and sadness welling up inside. She wasn't even sure why Tom would be so angry at her when she hadn't done anything wrong and her eyes watered when the Durands led her outside, Mr Durand carrying Grace's small trunk.

Grace didn't know and never noticed a shadow watching her and the Durands getting into one of the cars parked outside the orphanage. Tom clenched his fists as he watched the car drive off down the street and, after a few seconds, out of sight. He didn't regret not saying Grace goodbye, it would have been a pure waste of his precious time anyway. Now it was just him and him alone again. Would Tom ever see her again? Probably not; not that he cared very much about that.

When Tom finally turned away from the window, his dark eyes gleaming red in the setting summer sun, all of the street lamps' bulbs outside suddenly shattered with a deafening sound, and no one but Tom and Grace, if she had been there, would ever know how and why such a thing could have happened.

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><p><strong>Will Tom and Grace see each other again? Well, as this is only the prologue, they most definitely will ;) Please read and review, and let me know what you think!<strong>


	2. The Acceptance Letter

**Chapter 1: The Acceptance Letter**

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><p>The car ride back to Glasgow was a most tedious one and Grace soon found herself staring out the window at the landscape rushing by. After much fumbling, and Grace's help, Mr Durand had managed to turn on the radio. He was currently humming along to some jazz song Grace didn't know.<p>

Even though she had tried hard to avoid it, Grace's thoughts came always wandering back to Tom and his horrendous behaviour. Since she had known him, Tom had never been fond of having others around; this attitude hadn't even changed after Grace had confided in Tom and told him about the mysterious things she could do. And while Tom would have never openly regarded her as his friend and had, even after all these years, always gone rigid when Grace sat down next to him, she had considered him to be the closest being to a friend she had ever had. Sure, the other children at the orphanage had been nice to her, but they weren't like her and Tom, they would never understand the things they were able to perform.

Grace sighed and shifted her gaze so that she was looking right at the back of Mrs Durand's head. They seemed nice enough, she thought and began to wonder how the Durands would react if she were to tell them about her abilities. Would they call her a freak, like Tom said they would? Or maybe they would be delighted at the fact that they had adopted such a talented little girl.

"Mrs Durand," Grace finally piped up and craned her neck so that she could peer right over the passenger's seat. "I would like to ask you something, if you don't mind."

Mrs Durand turned around slightly and smiled softly. "Call me Maggy, my dear," she said and nodded. Grace felt encouraged by her words and continued, her heart pounding in her chest.

"What do you think about magic?"

Grace didn't miss the look the Durands exchanged right before Mrs Durand turned fully around in her seat and her husband cleared his throat noisily. "Why would you ask that, Grace?" the light-haired woman inquired, but her tone was friendly and curious. Grace's courage left her, though, and she leant back in her seat, her gaze turned at her lap.

"It's just that, well, it … I've read books about magic. Fantasy novels," Grace lied after quite a while. "It greatly interests me."

Mrs Durand exchanged another look with her husband as if they somehow knew Grace was lying and started rummaging through her bag before pulling out something that looked like— "A wand!" Grace exclaimed and leapt in her seat. She couldn't believe her eyes when her adoptive mother smiled, swung her wand and made the car's ceiling see-through in the blink of an eye.

"We figured we wouldn't have to tell you until your eleventh birthday, Grace," Mr Durand commented and looked at her through the rear-view mirror, his eyes twinkling. "But we are like you, my dear. There was a reason why you were adopted into a wizarding family and there is no harm in telling you now … you are a witch."

She couldn't believe her eyes and ears, as this was too good to be true. Grace gaped at the dark clouds she could now perfectly see through the ceiling, and then back at Maggy Durand, who was still beaming at her. A million questions formed in Grace's head about how they had known about her and how all of this could be possible, and was Tom also to be adopted into a wizarding family? Her being a witch would definitely explain a lot of the things which had happened in the past. Could it be possible that her _real_ parents had magical abilities as well?

"But … _how_?" Grace breathed and looked up into Mrs Durand's brown eyes. "How did you know?"

"Oh, that is something that we cannot tell you yet, Grace," Mr Durand explained, his gaze shifting between the road and the rear-view mirror. "You just have to know that we will treat you with all the kindness and love that we can give. It was no coincidence that our paths crossed; and as we ourselves have never had any children we were more than willing to let you stay with us."

"That is very kind, sir," the small girl mumbled and felt her cheeks turn a deep shade of red. Mr Durand laughed heartily.

"It was such trouble to get a car and learn how to drive, though," he said and Mrs Durand began to laugh as well. "Couldn't have suddenly flounced into Wool's Orphanage on our brooms, could we?"

"Brooms?" Grace gasped. She felt like the doors to a whole new world had been opened just for her to see. Being only eight years old, Grace naturally didn't know a lot about her surroundings yet, but she couldn't wait to explore the wizarding world she now seemed to be a part of.

"Oh, yes!" Mrs Durand exclaimed and again laughed at Grace's puzzled expression. "You will see there are much faster ways than travelling by car."

When the Durand's had started to concentrate on the road again and Mr Durand was now openly able to criticise the function of a 'Muggle radio', Grace leant back in her seat and goggled at the now dark sky. She desperately wanted to ask the Durands about her birth parents and why she couldn't remember anything that had happened before she was left on the stairs of the orphanage, but she knew now was not the time. Her time would come.

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><p>More than two years had gone by during which Grace had had a more exciting time than she had ever had during her years at Wool's Orphanage. She still missed Tom dearly and had written to him more than once, yet he had never responded to any of her letters. The Durands were the most adorable adoptive parents Grace could have wished for, though, and they had invited her into their world, this completely new and exciting world, with open arms. Grace had already learned all about a sport called Quidditch, about house-elves and their abilities, and about the Durands' ways of housekeeping (which mostly included letting the plates clean themselves and the home appliances to work on their own). Grace had never felt more at home before.<p>

On New Year's Day 1938, Grace couldn't help but think about Tom again while she was combing her long, sleek hair in front of the mirror in her room. It had been their eleventh birthday yesterday and she wondered if Tom had gotten the present she had sent him with her mother's owl Meryl. So far, she had never received a present from Tom in return, though she didn't really mind. Grace only wished for him to at least answer one of the many letters she had sent him in the past; after all, they hadn't seen each other in such a long time.

The sun was beginning to set by the time Grace had finished getting ready for dinner and she had just closed the door to hurry into the dining room when she heard Mrs Durand's voice drift up the stairs: "Albus, so lovely to see you again. Come inside."

Grace was confused; her parents hadn't told her anything about a guest. She tiptoed downstairs, past Miles the house-elf, who was carrying a plate of appetisers, and knocked softly on the dining room's door before entering. Grace wasn't at all surprised to see a third person sitting at the huge mahogany table. It was a tall and thin man, with a crooked nose and a long beard. He glimpsed right over his half-moon spectacles when he saw her enter, smiled and got up swiftly.

"Ah," he announced and strode straight towards Grace, his right hand reaching out to shake hers. "You must be Grace."

The brown-haired girl just nodded, accepting the man's handshake with a small smile. She could see her parents looking slightly anxious in the background.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, Grace," the tall man continued, straightening the pointed head which was adorning his head. "And I have come here to offer you a place at our school, namely Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As you are now eleven years old, you will be old enough to attend." He was looking pleased as he handed Grace a letter. It seemed to bear the school's seal as it showed the letter 'H' flanked by a lion, a serpent, an eagle and a badger. Grace's hand shook as she opened the letter and peered at the first page.

"_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September, 1__st__. We await your owl by no later than July, 31__st_," Grace read out loud. She looked up at Dumbledore with huge eyes, delight bubbling up inside of her. Grace then turned to the Durands who had gotten up from their respective places. "Can I go? Please?"

Mr Durand laughed and Mrs Durand had started to dab at her eyes with a huge handkerchief. "Of course you can, Grace," her father said and grinned when Grace threw herself at him and hugged him with all her might. Dumbledore stood aside, not wanting to interrupt such a precious moment.

Dumbledore cleared his throat after a while, again smiling when Grace turned her full attention to the old wizard.

"I'm nothing but delighted to hear that you accept my offer," Dumbledore told the young girl. "There are quite a few things you will have to know about, but this is neither the time nor the place to tell you, Grace. Do not worry though, for you will find out sooner or later. There _is _something I want to confess nevertheless; _I_ was the one who sent you to Wool's Orphanage and also the one who stayed in constant contact with the Durands."

"I— I can't remember," Grace admitted and her gaze again shifted towards her adoptive parents. "I can't remember anything that has happened before my arrival at the orphanage. But why would you send me there? What about my … my birth parents?"

Silence fell over the dining room. Mrs Durand sniffed but Dumbledore only looked at Grace as if he had already known the questions she would ask.

"This I also cannot tell you yet. Rest assured, you will be told when the time is right," Dumbledore said, folding his hands behind his back. "You have to understand that I did all of it to keep you safe."

Grace felt like she was even more confused than before, but she kept quiet. She had never been one to question others before and she believed Dumbledore when he told her that the time wasn't right. Why he couldn't tell her _now_— that was still a mystery.

When Dumbledore pulled a pocket watch out of his robes, Grace was shaken out of her stupor. She caught a glimpse of the watch which, rather than numbers, had twelve hands and moving planets.

"Oh!" he exclaimed happily. "That late already. I would love to stay for dinner, Maggy, but I fear I must hurry on."

Dumbledore was saying his goodbyes to the Durands when Grace's soft voice piped up again. "Mr Dumbledore, sir," she said, having one final question which she hoped he could answer, now that she knew about their magical background. "Will Tom Riddle be there as well? At Hogwarts?"

The Professor turned around slowly and Grace could have sworn that his eyes flashed up with worry, even if it was only for a second.

"Oh yes, dear, I paid Tom a visit just this morning," Dumbledore answered, his voice grave. "It would amaze me if you were not to see him again this upcoming summer."

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><p>At the same time, hundreds of miles away, Tom was still mulling over the letter of acceptance to Hogwarts School Dumbledore had given him hours ago. He hadn't really taken a great liking to the Professor, and being informed by Dumbledore that he, in fact, was a wizard hadn't surprised Tom all that much. As a matter of fact, it explained quite a lot and Tom felt a surge of triumph that he possessed something no one else at the orphanage did. He would have to be careful from now on though; that Dumbledore seemed to be someone who could not be easily tricked by mere flattery.<p>

Tom stared at his reflection in the mirror next to his wardrobe; the one Dumbledore had set on fire to prove to Tom that he hadn't come to take the boy to an asylum. Tom looked very pale and had dark circles around the eyes, but a new hope flared in his eyes. The hope to finally get out of this wretched orphanage.

"What are you staring at?" A voice suddenly called from the door, making Tom whirl around. Billy Stubbs was standing in the doorway, a huge smirk plastered on his face. Tom could see two other children hiding behind Billy, probably curious to know what was going to happen. "I saw that doctor coming for you this morning," Billy continued, taking a step forward. "It was about time that someone had come to take you away, _freak._"

Tom lunged at Billy. He was sick and tired of the older boy's remarks; hadn't Tom already taught him a lesson when he had killed Billy's pet-rabbit?

Billy stepped aside smoothly and grabbed Tom by the arm, but the moment he did he began to scream in anguish. Tom glared at Billy with frustration and hatred, and was delighted to see Billy's burnt hand when the boy clutched his right arm to his chest.

"You— you monster!" Billy screamed with tears in his eyes and fled Tom's room, followed by the other children who had been looking on. Tom had no doubt that Billy would be telling Mrs Cole about the incident but he didn't really care. He felt a strong satisfaction at having hurt the older boy and couldn't stop marvelling at his special gifts. He was better than them, than all of them. And he would be even better than every other student attending Hogwarts alongside him.

Tom sneered as he sat down at his desk and spotted the small diary Grace had sent him for his birthday. Foolish girl. He thought he had made it clear that he never wanted to see her again by not replying to any of her letters. She was probably enjoying life living at the Durands' manor while he was still stuck in London with all the other non-special children. Tom didn't know if Grace had been accepted to Hogwarts as well, nor did he care. Someone who had _voluntarily_ decided to live with such ordinary people wasn't worthy of being called 'special'. She could have stayed with him and he maybe would have allowed her to follow him around their new school, providing that Grace were to attend.

As Mrs Cole's furious voice drifted up the stairs, Tom lazily flung Grace's diary aside and got up. He would deal with the matron's wrath now and maybe deal with Billy Stubbs for one last time, before tending to his _new_ life outside the orphanage. Dumbledore had provided him with enough information to find the so-called Diagon Alley to buy the needed equipment, and Tom was eager to get out of Wool's Orphanage tomorrow to explore Diagon Alley. He smirked and slammed the door shut.

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><p><strong>The next chapter will finally deal with the Sorting at Hogwarts and will be told entirely out of Tom's perspective, I promise. Also, please don't be surprised at the fact that Dumbledore delivered Grace's letter in person, I will soon dive into that.<strong>

**Please, please, **_**please**_** leave a short comment of what you think, as I got tons of views on the prologue, but only one comment :( Thank you all so much!**


	3. Separation

**Chapter 2: Separation**

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><p>On September 1st, the Hogwarts Express left at 11 o'clock sharp. Thanks to Dumbledore's thorough explanation, Tom had managed to get to King's Cross Station Platform 9 ¾ without trouble and was currently weaving through the crowd of other witches and wizards to store his trunk on the train. It had been almost impossible to convince Mrs Cole to travel to King's Cross all by himself, but Tom had somehow managed to get rid of the matron. He shuddered when he thought about a Muggle, the term for non-magical people he had picked up at Diagon Alley after overhearing some older Hogwarts students, stepping into this magical world. It was best for Tom that he had been left alone.<p>

He looked around before scrambling onto the train, his trunk in tow. It was heavy with all the new books and equipment Tom had gotten months ago and he struggled slightly before heaving the trunk into an empty compartment right next to the entrance. _So this is it_, Tom thought and sat down next to the window. Some people were still bidding their farewells or hopping onto the train in a hurry, trunks, cats and owls in tow. Tom sneered at a couple who was kissing right below his compartment window and turned away. He wondered how long it would take to get to Hogwarts and what would await him there as he pulled a battered book out of his trunk and began to read.

When Tom first looked at his watch, the meadows and rivers were already passing by in a blur. It was right after 1 pm and Tom began to notice a slow but steady wave of anticipation wash over him. He put his book aside right as someone opened the door to his compartment. Tom had almost forgotten about all the other students on the train, being so absorbed in his Potions book, and he narrowed his eyes at the two boys who had entered noisily.

"Are those seats taken?" the taller of the two asked, pointing at the seats across from Tom. He had shaggy, black hair and grey eyes. But before Tom could refuse, the boy had already sat down, patting the seat next to him so the other boy would sit down as well. Tom's eyes gleamed with anger and he cleared his throat.

"I did not say they weren't," he said slowly, trying hard to control his voice. The black-haired boy just raised an eyebrow and snorted.

"Yeah, I figured," he stated and ogled at Tom's single trunk in the compartment. The other boy snorted and pushed his blond bangs aside. He had green eyes that were mischievously glittering. Silence fell until the blond spoke up for the first time.

"You seem to be a first-year as well," he said, nodding at Tom's Potions book. "I'm Abraxas Malfoy and this is Alphard Black. First-years as well."

"Tom Riddle," Tom just answered and leant back in his seat.

"Riddle?" the Malfoy boy asked, squinting his eyes. "Never heard of your name before. Are you a pure-blood as well? Father has told me about some of the American pure-blood families— very rich, hard to get in touch with, so of course _I_ wouldn't know."

"Not that it is any of your business," Tom said dryly. "But if you need to know—"

He was saved by the compartment door being once more opened, but after seeing the person standing in the doorway, Tom wished it hadn't.

Grace Durand, formerly Parker_,_ had changed a lot over the past three years. Her brown hair had grown into long waves, and thick, black lashes were framing her blue eyes. Her skin now glistened with a soft tan, her face still slender and pretty, and Tom noticed with slight annoyance the expensive jewellery and silk robes she was wearing. Two girls were standing behind Grace, both slightly taller than her, which wasn't all that difficult, but she hadn't seemed to notice Tom as her blue eyes inspected Malfoy and Black's nonchalant posture. Tom wished he could hide in his trunk; he hadn't expected to encounter Grace so soon— or at all.

"Alphard," Grace warned and puffed her cheeks slightly. "We _know_ that you took Mary's Remembrall. Just give it back before I tattle." The red-haired girl behind her seemed to have tears in her eyes.

"_I_ didn't take it!" Alphard exclaimed. "Abraxas and Riddle can confirm that I have been here for quite a while; right fellows?"

Before Tom had the chance to utter an annoyed NO, Grace had turned to look at him and gasped. He could see the glee on her face as the tiny girl launched forwards and engulfed him in a hug. Tom went rigid when he felt Grace's body press against his, and she let him loose when he failed to hug her back. The other girls in the doorway had begun to whisper and Malfoy and Black looked absolutely dumbfounded.

"Oh, Tom!" Grace exclaimed, and Tom could see that her eyes were swimming in tears as she sat down beside him. "I thought I would never see you again; you never answered any of my letters. How have you been? You look so tired, have the other children not been treating you well? And how is everyone?"

Tom grew more and more annoyed at her rambling and was even more bothered at Black who had begun to snigger and coo _Oh Tom_ behind his hand.

"I have been fine," Tom huffed and straightened his jacket. "I am also in no mood to talk about this _now_," he added in a harsh whisper that only Grace could hear. No one needed to know about the orphanage or Tom's well-being. The girl looked hurt and seemed to be taken aback but she swiftly regained her composure when her red-headed friend tapped her on the shoulder.

"Let's just leave," the girl squeaked with pleading eyes. Grace nodded and got up, but not before giving Tom's hand one final squeeze.

"I hope we can talk later," she added with a sad smile and followed the girls out.

Black whistled right after the compartment door had been closed and smirked at Tom. He had never wanted to hex someone as much as he wanted now.

"So you and Grace are childhood friends," he said. "Well, at least you seem to have one friend at Hogwarts. Let's also leave, Abraxas." Black laughed as he and Malfoy got up, but not before giving Tom a dirty and wary look. He smirked, pulled a tiny ball-sized glass ball out of his pocket and slammed the door shut, leaving an enraged Tom behind.

* * *

><p>The train finally arrived late that evening. After the first-years were all greeted by Hogwarts' gamekeeper Ogg, they followed him all through the dark, down a stony path. Tom brought up the rear, mainly to avoid Grace and her inane friends, with two other boys who were looking frightened and making huge eyes at Ogg; Tom sneered at them for being so foolish. When they arrived at the edge of a great lake, Tom and the other children got their first sight of Hogwarts, a grand castle, ablaze with lights, which stood on a high mountain. Tom could hear the others cooing <em>Ohhhs<em> and _Ahhhs_, and even _he_ had to admit that the sight was magnificent.

It took them some time to get to the castle itself but by the time they were greeted and shown to the vast Entrance Hall, Tom was slightly shaking with curiosity. His time would begin now.

Tom espied Black, Malfoy and Grace standing up front and he, again, felt discontent rushing through his veins. He couldn't quite understand why Grace was here, of all people. He had seen the things she was able to do, that was for sure, but Tom himself hadn't deemed her worthy to attend Hogwarts. She was nothing more than a mere _Muggle_, probably having stumbled over some magic tricks. And while Tom had been raised in a Muggle orphanage, he was absolutely sure that his parents had been a witch and wizard. No other option was possible in his mind because his power and knowledge were far too great for his age for his parents to have been _ordinary_. Tom narrowed his eyes when Grace laughed at something Black had been whispering in her ear; how come they even knew each other?

Tom was still mulling over his thoughts when Professor Dumbledore started to tell the first-years, who were all looking at him in awe, all about the following Sorting Ceremony and the four houses they would be sorted into. He only looked up again when Dumbledore led them into the Great Hall, right to its top where the teachers were sitting. Tom was squinting at the hundreds of faces in front of him and slightly frowned when Dumbledore put a stool bearing a pointed wizard's hat in front of the first-years.

Dumbledore unrolled a roll of parchment and cleared his throat. "I will now call your names and you will put on the hat to be sorted," he told the first-years with a gentle smile. Tom thought he heard the Sorting Hat cough.

"Avery, Alexander!"

A scrawny boy tumbled out of the crowd, his brown eyes looking fearful, and he put on the hat. There was silence until the hat shouted— "SLYTHERIN!"

The students at one of the long tables in front of them started to cheer and clap. They were wearing robes lined with green and silver, and didn't look all too friendly compared to the rest of the students. Alexander took off the hat, now a grin upon his face, and hurried over to the Slytherins.

"Black, Alphard!"

Tom eyed Black sceptically as the tall boy walked confidently towards the stool and put on the hat which engulfed half of his face. The hat took its time this time, but after a few minutes it finally screamed "SLYTHERIN!" into the silent hall. Again, the table second from the right burst into applause. Tom could have been mistaken, but he swore he had seen slight disappointment in Black's eyes.

There were four other people, Grace's insufferable friend Mary included, before it was Grace's turn. Tom watched her march towards the hat, her face white and her hands shaking. Her eyes were shining brightly in the candlelight and Grace's eyes met Tom's before she put on the Sorting Hat and it swallowed her head, showing only her quivering mouth and the ends of her glossy hair. Tom couldn't deny that he was downright nervous now. Did he want him and Grace to end up in the same house? They weren't friends in his opinion, but as that Black kid had said, she was the only one who considered him to be one. Tom stared at Grace, his breath caught in his throat and then the rip near the hat's brim finally opened—

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat roared, and Grace looked delighted as she took off the hat and hurried over to the Gryffindor table. Her friend Mary was already waiting eagerly and several older students were greeting Grace with nods and handshakes. Grace smiled at all of them and after sitting down next to Mary she looked up again, right into Tom's eyes. _Good luck_, she mouthed and gave him a fleeting smile. Tom turned away hastily, pretending he hadn't been watching Grace's every move.

Time seemed to go by very slowly until it was Tom's turn. Abraxas Malfoy had been sorted into Slytherin while Grace's other friend, who had been hiding behind her on the train whilst Grace had confronted Black, had been declared a Ravenclaw. Tom's hands were shaking as "Parker, Jane!" was sorted into Hufflepuff and Dumbledore finally called: "Riddle, Tom". Tom couldn't wait anymore; he stalked out of line, now oozing pride and confidence, sat on the stool and put on the hat. The last thing he saw before the hat slipped over his eyes were all the glowing faces looking at him expectantly.

"Oh my," said a tiny voice Tom was pretty sure only he could hear. "I see. Hm. There is the strong desire to be set apart from others. Very intelligent, cunning. And looking at the ones who have sat in your place so many years ago I have only one choice— SLYTHERIN!"

Tom swayed as he took the hat off and hurried over to the Slytherins. Some of them were clapping politely, but Tom didn't care; he was too busy thinking about the Sorting Hat's words— "the ones who have sat in your place so many years ago"; what had it meant by that? Tom didn't even notice Dumbledore rolling up the parchment moments later and Headmaster Dippet starting the feast. The only logical explanation was that Tom's ancestors had been at Hogwarts as well, and they had all been sorted into Slytherin. He would have to get to the bottom of that.

"Oy, Riddle!" someone suddenly called and Tom's train of thought came to a sudden halt. Black was waving at him from the other side of the table, Malfoy and an arrogant-looking girl sitting next to him, and he smirked. "Don't be sad that poor, little Grace now belongs to the Gryffindors. We will take care of you."

Black and Malfoy shared a hollow laugh and Tom's blood began to boil. He would be showing Black who would be taking care of whom in the near future. He angrily stabbed into his mashed potatoes and glared at Grace across the hall. She would suffer for this indignity.

* * *

><p>After the feast, a Prefect led the first-years down to the dungeons and into the Slytherin Common Room. Tom was very displeased to find out that he was sharing a dormitory with Black, Malfoy, and two other boys, namely Alexander Avery and Nigel Lestrange. When it was time to unpack their belongings, Tom chose the four-poster bed farthest away from the others as he had no intention of making friends at Hogwarts. He sighed in annoyance as Malfoy droned on and on about his family and stuffed his books into one of the boxes which would now belong to him.<p>

"Alphard and I are cousins," Malfoy airily told Avery while Black made himself comfortable on his bed. "It was predictable that the hat would put us into Slytherin. Right, Alphard?"

Alphard just grunted in response and continued to stare at the ceiling. Tom again noted with satisfaction that Black looked like he would be far happier if the Sorting Hat had put in him into any house that _wasn't _Slytherin.

"Well," Alphard began and turned around on his bed, "couldn't be avoided." Malfoy just raised his eyebrows, though he didn't say anything.

"My grandmother's a Muggle," Avery confided. "It's mortifying."

"As it should be," Malfoy declared and nodded. Tom couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes, and was just about to cover himself with the green-and-silver blanket when Lestrange eyed him curiously.

"What about you, Riddle?" he asked, making Malfoy and Avery turn around as well. "Black told us you are friends with Durand; are your parents acquainted?" Even Black had sat up at Lestrange's question and was looking at Tom with distrust. What was with their interest in Grace Durand anyway?

Tom narrowed his eyes at the boys and snapped: "That is not any of your business."

"Why so harsh, Riddle?" Malfoy chimed in and grinned. "Are you a Mudblood or what?" Everyone but Black and Tom laughed.

"No," Tom answered, grinding his teeth. How dare Malfoy call _him_ a Mudblood?

"Well, then there will be no harm in telling us," Malfoy snarled. All eyes were on Tom now, and he saw no other way out but lie.

"Our parents know each other, yes," Tom growled, his eyes flashing at Malfoy. Malfoy seemed to be pleased with Tom's answer, and he turned around to continue his conversation with Avery. Tom was livid. Malfoy would pay for it; they would all pay for it, to even _consider_ Tom to be a Mudblood. Tom would show them to never laugh at him again— they would soon be experiencing what real fear was.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, was it predictable that Grace and Tom wouldn't <strong>_**both**_** end up in Slytherin? In my opinion, Grace is far too gentle to have been sorted into Slytherin and there are still some other facts that are crucial for her now being a Gryffindor (which will, now that Tom and Grace are at Hogwarts, slowly surface).**

**Also, I **_**really**_** wanted to put Alphard into Ravenclaw but as I'm mostly sticking to the books— yeah. Please read and REVIEW, and tell me what you guys think!**


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